The Faithful
by Gus The Moose
Summary: How the Apocalypse could've ended and how Dean could've dealt with the aftermath and the loss of the angel he learned to rely on. Dean/Castiel. Warning: Character death.


**Author's Notes: ** I wrote this fic long before we knew how the whole apocalypse would play out or what would happen. It was another fic request from a friend who wanted Dean/Cas, post-apocalypse, hurt/comfort. I tossed in some Sam/Jo and one OC angel. Mostly it's Dean angst and questioning faith.

**Warnings**: Character death.

* * *

><p>Lucifer held Dean off the ground by his throat while Castiel stood useless in a ring of holy fire. His fallen brother had ambushed them, just outside Detroit. He had sent Sam somewhere, trapped him and started in on Dean. The beaten wasn't actually cruel, or unnecessarily violent like Alistair's had been but it is not pleasant to watch. Castiel clenched his hands tighter and tighter into fists until he felt blood drip from where his nails bit into his palms.<p>

"I do owe you a debt of gratitude, I suppose," Lucifer said calmly while he studied Dean's bloodied face. "You broke the first seal and your… continuing refusal of Michael was like."

Lucifer smirked, "A Godsend."

"Let him go," Castiel said, stepping close to the edge of the flames.

Lucifer looked at him, "Just a minute brother, I'm almost finished. Have you become… impatient?"

"Let him go." Castiel repeated, the flames now licking at the tips of his shoes.

"I can't do that." Lucifer looked back at Dean and he seemed almost… sad. "If he wasn't our brother's vessel I could but I suppose our father forced my hand. One brother has to die, Castiel."

He couldn't watch this. Castiel looked at the ring around him in frustration and closed his eyes tight. He had to do something to stop Lucifer. Dean needed him. He couldn't let Lucifer kill him. He couldn't watch Dean die.

Swallowing hard, he looked up. "If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and He will rescue us from your hand, O king."

Lucifer went still for a moment and turned to face him fully, "Daniel 3:17. Your faith is so… sad, brother. You will burn."

"He will rescue us from your hand."

"Cas, don't," Dean croaked.

He had already taken the first steps through the flames. He felt them leap past his physical body and reach deep into him, scalding the edges of his weakened Grace, trying to swallow it whole and consume it. He closed his eyes as he felt it take hold and burn him, but his foot touched the ground on the other side of the flames and he kept walking.

The burn spread through his whole body, painful, furious and hungry, but Castiel held to his faith, as a shield and a sword. God had saved him once. God would wave him again. God would not let him burn. He alone believed, he alone was faithful. While his brothers had started this, Castiel had tried to do what his father wanted. His father wouldn't abandon him now.

"They saw that the fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them," he said as he came to stand outside the flames.

He looked over his own body because he still felt fire within him, painful and powerful, but he wasn't burned. He wasn't even singed. There was no sign of fire on him, even though the circle still burned behind him.

This time, he didn't take a careful step but leapt in front of Lucifer. He grabbed the wrist holding Dean up and twisted with all the strength left in his body. Lucifer cried out in surprise, dropping Dean. One his charge was free Castiel threw Lucifer hard, slamming him into the opposite wall and then holding him there, but his power wouldn't hold forever. He could already feel it slowly burning away, burning him with it.

He looked down at Dean who was struggling to sit up. There was only one thing to do. He tucked down and took Dean's chin gently in his hand, sending all the Grace and power into him.

"Take my sword," he said, watching the bruises and cuts heal while Dean wrestled with the powers he was giving him. "Straight through the throat. Do not hesitate."

"Cas…"

He smiled fondly and drew his sword from behind his back, pressing it into Dean's hand. "Do you know what forced Michael's sword, Dean? Faith. Take my faith, do what you were destine to do."

Castiel put a hand under his arm and helped Dean to his feet and then let him go. He could stand on his own now. He looked down at the sword in his hand then looked at Lucifer who was still held to the wall. In an instant, Dean went from confused to furious, filled with power he practically glowed in Castiel's vision.

"You son of a bitch," Dean whispered under his breath and turned. There was no fear, no hesitation. Dean walked up to Lucifer, looking him in the eyes and drove the sword through his throat without blinking or flinching.

Castiel was quick to act after that. He grabbed Dean, pulled him back from Lucifer who was already burning through his vessel. He pulled Dean down and covered his body as best he could, unfurling his wings and wrapping them around for extra protection.

"Keep your eyes closed!" He yelled over the sound of the house shaking and the winds raised by his wings. He didn't need to tell Dean, who had his eyes already closed. Castiel closed his and pressed his lips to the top of Dean's head.

Then Lucifer exploded outward, the Morning Star breaking in a furious rush of power. Castiel felt it crawl through him, tearing his feathers from his wings and his Grace from his vessel. He held on as best he could, but it was no use. The power he needed to survive this he had given to Dean. Lucifer tore him apart before finally sinking from the world with the force of a tornado.

The remade body that had once held Castiel within slumped over useless, empty, the impression of wings burned into the ground surrounding Dean.

"Cas?" Dean opened his eyes and stared at the body at his feet, then he saw the sorchmarks. "Cas!"

He shoved the body over, pressed two shaking fingers against his neck and waited desperately for a pulse. There wasn't even a weak flutter. There was nothing and the skin under his fingers already felt colder, felt wrong. Cas was always seemed to be warmer than other people and that… that thing, that presence he had as gone. There was nothing.

"Damn it, Cas!" he yelled, grabbing the lapels of his jacket as if he was going to shake the body, as if he could shake Castiel loose somehow. He held on with a white knuckle grip but he knew, knew deep down where his stomach twisted painfully tight, that there was no reason to. Cas was gone, dead and gone, probably for good this time.

"Come on," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I know you're there! You saved him once, do it again, damn it. He loved you. He never stopped. Damn it, be a father for once in your stupid, fucking existence and save him!"

But there wasn't a sound in the house except for his heavy breathing and sirens in the distance. Dean held back the broken sound that wanted to escape from his throat and fought down the sick feeling in his stomach.

"That's what I thought," he said angrily and picked Cas's body up in his arms. He wasn't going to leave it behind, but he had other things to do. He had to find Sam, find out what the hell happened now and a shit ton of other things, but damn it, he wasn't leaving Cas behind.

* * *

><p>And just like that, the apocalypse was over.<p>

Dean found Sam in a bed and breakfast a day's drive away from Detroit. Apparently, Lucifer had zapped him there, where a bunch of demon fanatics watched over him. Once Lucifer was dead though, they took it personally and took it out on Sam. His brother had looked pretty bad when Dean had charged in and fought them off. No one wanted to mess with the guy who killed Lucifer, which while badass didn't really feel as great as Dean expected.

They rolled up outside Bobby's two days later. He had watched with his arms folded over the roof of the Impala as Jo tackled Sam in a hug and Bobby actually walked down the front steps. Apparently, there was an outbreak of miraculous healings all over the world. Things were getting fixed and Bobby was one of them. There had been a lot of hugging after that, some laughter and a few tears but it had felt good until Jo asked the inevitable question.

"Where's Cas?"

Dean swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "Trunk," he said. "Didn't make it. Need to… get a fire ready for him."

He walked away from the pity in everyone's eyes. He listened to the hush conversation behind him, recognizing Sam's comforting explanation tone and Bobby's angry acceptance voice. He opened the trunk of the Impala and stared at the white wrapped body lying on a blue plastic tarp. It should have started decomposing days ago, but it hadn't. The "miracle" pissed Dean off even more. God could save the body but he couldn't save Cas. It was just one more reason for him to not bother with the son of a bitch.

"Let me help with him," Bobby said, coming to stand next to him.

Dean wanted to refuse. Cas was his responsibility, his angel, no one else… but this was Bobby and Bobby was different.

"Thanks," he said, pushing down more grief.

Bobby clapped him on the shoulder, "Anytime son."

They burned Cas's body that night with Bobby giving the Catholic last rites. Dean stayed until the last ember finally died and there was nothing left. He had saved the whole freakin' world and done it without being taken over by an angel. He had his mind, his car and his brother. Bobby could walk and there was a whole future laid out before them.

It looked pretty good. It looked great, actually except for the asses at his feet and the gaping sense of loss in chest.

"After everything, you couldn't let me have something for myself?"

He had developed a habit of talking to God. Ever since he saw Cas walk through that fire, he knew the guy was there. He just never answered and never did anything worthwhile.

"If I had said yes… could I have saved him?" he asked softly, guilt twisting through him. "Could I have done anything to save him?"

"There are things that must happen, Dean Winchester, and they are things we do not always want or enjoy." a female voice said from behind him. "Sometimes, these things are frankly quite painful.

He glared over his shoulder at the Latino woman in a suit who now stood behind him. He knew just from the presence she had she wasn't Cas in another body. It was stupid of him to think Cas was coming back anyway.

"Whoever you are, make it quick," he said, looking back at the ashes.

"I am Ithuriel. I will not stay long."

"Good. I still think you guys are royal dicks."

"I have only come to give you this." Ithuriel came to stand next to him and held up her hand. His amulet dangled from her fingers.

He had searched Cas's body for the thing, but it hadn't been anywhere on it.

"I knew he didn't lose it," he said softly, taking it from her. He clutched it tightly in his hand until the little horns bit into his skin. "Why do you have it?"

"It's a sign," she said, "Maybe your destiny isn't finished yet."

He heard the rustle of wings that signaled the angel had left, then swore.

* * *

><p>"So, what are you going to do?" Sam asked as he helped Dean take his and Jo's luggage out of the trunk.<p>

"Hunt," he said with a shrug. "What else is there?"

"Dean…"

"Don't give me the whole 'you can be anything you want' speech, Sam. I don't have the same options you do. Go enjoy Paris, I'll pick you up when you get back, alright?"

Sam sighed and then hugged him. Dean tolerated it for about three seconds before he shoved his brother off. Ever since Cas's funeral, he'd been clingy and over protective. Convincing him to actually take Jo to Paris like he said he would had been a bitch, but Dean had managed it because he knew he brother really wanted to go.

"Don't let him grow a mustache or get a beret, people already think he's a douche," he called to Jo who laughed and then saluted.

"You got it."

He stood by the car until his brother was inside the airport with Jo, then he got in and pointed the car north, towards the boarder. He put in an AC-DC tape and settled in for a long road trip. The angels wanted him to find God, which he thought was just the worst sense of irony he'd ever come across. Dean didn't want to find God. Dean wished he wasn't so certain God existed in the first place. Thinking about God just made him angry. The only reason he was even trying was because he owed Cas.

Without being able to blip all over the world like Cas had, Dean only had one good idea on where to go. It was a long, long drive, roughly two weeks, but he found something like a dirt road that took him to the lake he'd dreamed about and visited so damn long ago.

It hurt to stand there, to remember how he'd given Cas such shit about growing flowers and how he'd gotten to see Cas' wings up close. He had really believed, for just a moment, he'd come back here one day with Cas.

Now he walked to the edge of the dock alone and looked down at his reflection.

"You better be here," he said and pulled his amulet off. "If I have to ask an angel to get this back for me, I'm going to feel like an idiot."

He took a breath and hurled the amulet into the lake. It landed with a plop and then disappeared in the murky water. Absolutely nothing happened for a second, then Dean had to throw his arm up as a column of fire lanced out of the water and raced towards the sky. He felt the sonic boom shoot through him and then the whole thing was done and gone.

"So, it seems you were the right person to put my faith in. Thank you, Dean."

Dean closed his eyes tight. "If you took Cas' body to talk with me, I'm going to punch you."

"I am not my father."

He turned fast, grabbed onto the sleeve of a very familiar cheap ass coat and then yanked Cas into his arms. There were no words for his relief, no way to put into words what he felt, how it felt to have his angel back in his arms, back alive, breathing and there, simply there.

Castiel returned the embrace, holding onto Dean just as tight as Dean was holding on to him. He had his faith, he had his father returned to Heaven and there was peace on Earth again. He had Dean.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean asked, his voice rough. "You really died?"

He nodded slightly, "I did. I suppose God has answered your prayers and brought me back."

"Still an angel?"

"I seem to have some of my Grace, but I am not fully an angel."

"Good. Good." Dean finally drew back and turned away, swiping a hand underneath his eyes. "I need someone to get my necklace back."

Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled it out, holding it up in front of Dean. "This, you mean?"

"Nice."

Dean tried to take it back, but Castiel put it over his head for him and settled his hand behind his neck. He watched Dean closely for a moment before he pulled him forward. Dean made a grateful sound before he kissed him.

"For I, the Lord, love justice; I hate robbery and iniquity. In my faithfulness I will reward them and make an everlasting covenant with them," he said when he drew back from Dean.

"Cas, I'm about two seconds away from dragging you into the back seat of the Impala and fucking you cross eyed, could you not quote scripture right now?"


End file.
